


A Safe Place

by gratuitousWordsmith



Category: Homestuck
Genre: F/M, cute baby trolls that are totally pale but then not
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:28:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/836878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gratuitousWordsmith/pseuds/gratuitousWordsmith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You deal with her, and she deals with you, and you’re the best palemates any troll could ask for. Well, any troll but you.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Safe Place

**Author's Note:**

> Based off of a picture by absolutely-vantastic (shown below, art credit to them). It’s kinda short but it’s been a long time coming.

 ([x](http://absolutely-vantastic.tumblr.com/post/32911437365/a-safe-place-ive-tried-so-many-times-to-draw))

She was maybe five and a half sweeps. Or maybe she was already six sweeps old. She’s older than you, that much you know.  Being best friends with her was great. That was another thing you knew. You try not to use that word though, because sometimes it sounds like you’re saying you hate her, and that is definitely something you don’t know how to do. Well, maybe you do. She gets frustrating on occasion, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. You deal with her, and she deals with you, and you’re the best palemates any troll could ask for. Well, any troll but you. You try to stuff the red feelings welling in your blood pusher. It’s not professional, you think, for someone as well versed in romance as you. You also know that this sort of confusion is normal for a match like yours.

You are inseperable. She knocks on your hive door, a bundle of scalemates under one arm and a box of chalk clutched in her other fist. You muscle past your custodian and relieve her of her load. You ask her what plans she had in mind, and she says everything. She helps you tack a spare window covering to some chairs and crowds underneath with you. She asks you if its great and you agree. Very great. She pokes her head under the edge of the fort, the fabric curling up on her horns as she scrambles for the lantern. It illuminates your cavern perfectly, each page of her books thrown into bright colour, crayon drawings you shared now lit with vibrant colour.

An hour later you’re passing a star card into her hand as she hands you one with the Empress on its front. You grin at the sight of your idol and clutch the card to your chest. She says you’re welcome. You nod and tip back on your feet, bare toes curling in the soft plush surface. You let the card fall into your lap and you’re about to ask what next when she tucks a piece of loose black hair behind her ear and asks you what you would do if she were to kiss you right now. Except instead of saying all of those words out loud, she leans forward and places her thin black lips at the corner of yours. Your thinkpan drains down your back like cool ablutions. Your hands lock in front of you and you kiss her back. You try and think back to any of your lessons. This wasn’t common practice for moirails. It was far closer to a red solicitation, and you like it. She leans back and looks you in the eyes. You tell her yeah, yeah you will, and she grins and tackles you backwards. She snuggles against your chest and you flick the lantern off. You have a lot to think about.


End file.
